


A Study in Scarlet

by GreyGardens



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Hermione Granger, Angst and Drama, Angst and Porn, Blood, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Control, Dark Hermione Granger, Death, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, Gratuitous Smut, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Heavy Angst, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Smut, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inspired by Sherlock Holmes, Manipulation, Murder, Non-Graphic Violence, Opium, POV Draco Malfoy, Porn With Plot, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge, Revenge Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Scratching, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Stabbing, Stalking, Vengeful Hermione, Woman on Top, addict Draco, dramione - Freeform, drug overdose, opium den, reference to A Study In Scarlet, reference to Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29647554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyGardens/pseuds/GreyGardens
Summary: A mysterious woman hell bent on revenge stalks Draco across the continent until she finally finds him near death in an opium den.A very dark smutty Dramione one shot.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	A Study in Scarlet

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of complete fiction. I do not in any way condone murder.

**A Study In Scarlet** **  
**   
Draco awoke, at first uncertain of his surroundings, his head still foggy with dreams and other illicit substances. He narrowed his eyes and as they adjusted to the dimly lit room he remembered where he was: exactly where he had been for the last two weeks...or was it two months?

The opium den had been a good place to escape, to hide from the woman who seemed to be dogging his every step, no matter how far he traveled, no matter how lost he seemed to get along the way, until he had ended up here.

The problem was he found the escape of the drug itself too tempting to ignore and it had caught him in its grip. Battle scarred and broken from the war, the drug had become a blissful companion, it eased his pain and sent him floating along a peaceful river where nothing could touch him anymore, where his scars weren't brutal, constant, visceral reminders of all he had been through, all he had lost. Opium's warm embrace was the only thing that could drive the horrors from his mind.

It also stopped time very effectively, which he supposed was why he couldn't remember just how long he had been there. Nothing existed but a never ending series of waking up, using enough of the drug to kill the pain and nod off, then waking up and starting all over again. It could have been one day or one year or an eternity. Sometimes when he was high enough he could pretend nothing else had ever existed but that room and the drug and the other undesirables he found himself surrounded by.

As he rolled over to try and get more comfortable he felt his bones press painfully against the floor, reminding him that it had been quite awhile since he had actually eaten anything. But food was the last thing on his mind. Images of the woman were flooding his mind again, he needed to make her disappear. Food could come later, when he finally forgot her. Maybe this time...maybe this time would wipe her from his mind…

Why was she haunting him? Stalking him through the streets? Following him? What did she want? Was she trying to drive him mad? Why must she insist on forcing herself on him like a constant horrific reminder of the past he was trying so hard to escape? Couldn't she see what it was doing to him?

Of course she couldn't, she didn't know how far he had fallen, and even if she did, why should she care?

As the drug started taking it's blissful effect a shadow fell over him in the already dimly lit room. "I'll pay you tomorrow, you know I have the money, just let me sleep…" he muttered as he leaned back against the wall.

"It looks like we've both been chasing our own dragons." Came a familiar voice. Draco's eyes fluttered open and he saw her standing in front of him, The Woman, the one he had been trying so hard to escape. 

She had finally cornered him and he was too drugged to react. Too drugged to escape. Too drugged to do anything but submit.

He supposed part of him always knew that it would end like this, with her finally finding him as weak and broken on the outside as he had always been on the inside and overpowering him.

"What...do you...want, Granger?" He croaked through the haze of the drug as she knelt down in front of him, her long robes pooling around her on the dirty floor. She took his head in her hands and stared into his slate grey eyes, swimming in opium, and slapped him hard across the face, splitting his lip and making him taste blood. "Oi!" He cried, "what was that for?"

"Wake up!" She shouted, smacking him again.

She looked so beautiful when she was scared.

But why was she scared? She clearly had the upper hand,  _ she _ was the one who was hitting  _ him, _ after all.

"Granger, stop..." he mumbled, grabbing hold of her hand to stop her from smacking him again and bringing it to his lips, kissing her hand and pulling her to him.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" She demanded.

"What you really want to do…" he said, his usual drawl exaggerated by the drug, and then he tangled his fingers in her dark curls and kissed her, closing his eyes as the combination of the opium and the kiss sent an almost orgasmic surge rocketing through his body.

"Oh Malfoy, even overdosing on opium you're bloody incorrigible." She scoffed as she broke away from the kiss, pushed him down so he was lying on the floor and removed his trousers.

"Is this really happening?" He asked as she sank down on his cock and began slowly rocking her hips against him in the dark opium den.

In response she slapped him hard across the face again as she tightened her walls around him, causing him to throb and ache for release. "Is that enough proof for you?" She growled as she started fucking him harder, digging her nails deep into his thighs, holding him in place on the cusp of pain and pleasure.

"Oh Merlin," he groaned helplessly beneath her as she rode him, using his body for her own pleasure like he was nothing more than a filthy, worthless, junkie whore, which he supposed was  _ exactly _ what he was to her in that moment.

"Shut up!" She growled, smacking him again, the pain making him even harder. He grabbed her hands and wrenched them behind her back, holding them in his grip as he slammed his hips up into her, making her cry out, her voice echoing in the silence. The sound of her crying out in pleasure, pleasure that  _ he _ was giving her, made him lose control and he began rutting his hips, thrusting as deeply into her cruel cunt as he could, filling her, stretching her, making her moan. She began fucking him back harder and he thrust his hips to meet her every time, letting go of her wrists so he could grab hold of her hips instead and pound into her until suddenly she was shaking and moaning and as she came.

"Oh fuck, Granger…" he growled as he fucked her even harder, desperate to cum, "I  _ hate _ how fucking sexy you look when you take my cock, you filthy bitch."

"Oh, I'm filthy, am I?" She asked, rubbing her clit as she submitted once again to his ruthless pounding.

"Yes, you're a filthy, filthy mudblood, who is getting fucked in an opium den by a desperate junkie who is  _ still  _ better than you are." He said as he grabbed her by the hair and crushed his mouth against hers, forcing his tongue past her lips and thrusting it in and out of her mouth in time to the rough, dirty pounding of his cock into her, as if he were trying to fuck her cunt and her mouth at the same time. Soon she was moaning and writhing against him, scratching his arms until she drew blood.

"You fucking bitch!" He growled as he thrust into her one last time, cumming deep into her hateful cunt in the most gloriously explosive orgasm he'd ever had. It tore through him, pain and pleasure colliding, and he filled his enemy with his cum, pumping it into her ruthlessly just as he felt her thrust the knife into his stomach, twisting the blade with a look of pure pleasure on her face as she gutted him from groin to sternum, his eyes still staring up at her, not wide with shock or horror, but fluttering with blissful relief as he bled out on the floor of the opium den.

"This is exactly what you deserve." She hissed as she left him to die alone, just as she had found him.

Yes, it was always meant to end this way, with them using one another, hate fucking each other until their mutual hatred and the weight of his past mistakes finally caught up to him and exploded in murder. Perhaps that was why she had been hunting him this whole time. No matter, it was too late now. She was gone and he was dying, cold and alone in a filthy drug den where no one would ever find him.

She was right, it was exactly what he deserved.

But as he lay there dying, drugged on opium and having just had the most amazing orgasm of his life fucking the woman who had haunted him for so long, and who he knew he would now haunt forever, having seen the look on her face when he made her cum; he knew that there were much worse ways to die.

They would be part of one another forever now, bound together by their deadly secret. He would live on in her, whether she wanted him to or not. In killing him, she had finally let him claim her, and now he would never let her go, even in death.


End file.
